Archive of the pre-timeskip roleplays. If you wish to continue a pre-timeskip roleplay, you'll have to do so in the DT Freestyle subforum! PM Thalar to have a thread moved from this subforum to the Freestyle subforum.

Ash'Kir'lin Ist'Aven Val'Sullisinrune had spent the vast majority of the journey up until this point seated on the back deck of one of the koa'naka cabins, multi-tasking herself with the double affairs of reading and writing. The reading was of a rather extravagantly detailed guide to the more...lively parts of Val'Raveran, written by a merchant who apparently had a taste for the ribald. Unable to read the words herself due to her condition it was her Golem doing the reading, the small scarab-like device scuttling over the pages and issuing forth a complex and chiming series of chirps, a code Kir'lin had developed for herself and knew now by heart. As she listened to that she had also been writing in a stack of parchments, making slow, careful strokes with a quill pen. Unable to actually see she had to mentally visualize her words and make each movement of the quill precise. It was one of her latest attempts and fiction and she froze and instinctively covered the pages whenever she sensed someone approach nearby, ready to shove the parchments away in an instant lest someone see. So far she'd only ever let her mother see her writings and was a little mortified by the thought of anyone else reading what she felt was still fairly amateurish work.

Regardless she'd stopped both the Golem reading and her own writing when the caravan had encountered the collapsed passage. Even before word had spread down the caravan she'd felt the shift in emotions in the air, like tasting a sour scent. Nervousness mixed with keen alertness and a heady feeling of fear. She'd gone into the cabin proper and retrieved her sword and thrown on her sleeveless blue coat by the time the first explosions hit.

"Curse it all, it would have to be thrice damned dvergar of all things!" she swore as she rushed out of the cabin and nimbly jumped down to the ground amid the chaos and confusion.

In a situation like this she knew she'd be near next to useless. Dvergar lacked auras so her own Aura Vision would be utterly unusable for pinpointing them, and they were a race that favored the use of their queer explosive weapons anyway, so closing into proper melee range would be problematic. It irked her to no end that the first true chance to prove herself in a real battle had arrived and she was more likely to be a burden than a help. Still, help she would and immediately looked for the best way to do that. As far as she could guess the most sensible thing to do would be to shield those who were either dazed or too weak or untrained to form mana shields themselves. Picking through the tapestry of swirling emotions around her, at once both guarding against the surge on her mind and sifting through it to sense who was who, she felt a strong sense of dazed confusion just a few paces away.

Unaware that it was actually Suru'sunduiri that she was sensing Kir'lin rushed over and put herself between the Illhar'dro and incoming shoots from the dvergar, immediately forming a mana shield. By herself she was unsure of how effective the shield would hold but it would buy a few moments at least for Suru'sunduiri to recover. She wondered where her clanmates might be, but didn't have time now to focus on searching out their emotions amid the rest of the caravan.

Suru'sunduiri hummed a little healing melody to herself and the fog clouding her senses drifted away, and she was dragged back to reality once again in intensely sharp focus. She winced fiercely as stone shattered and sporadic flashes of light lit her surroundings. What was left of the cavaran, or at least the brunt of the cavaran, were moving into another tunnel- a safer tunnel while the mercenaries and hired guards joined mana shields to cover their retreating backs. The attack happened at a fork in the tunnel roads, the dvergar were firing from a higher level on the larger route (which headed to Val Raveran), so the caravan and its people had to haphazardly shift backwards into the smaller tunnel. With cleared senses, she noticed one of the Val'Sullisin'rune struggling to protect her and with a surge of adrenaline, Suru'sunduiri leaped to her feet and just as a cannon ball was going to collide with the shield, Suru linked her own mana shield with Ash'kirin's. The heavy ball hit with a large impact that sent waves through Suru's arms and she winced as she altered the mana shield at the last minute for the ball to swerve to the side and hit the ground shattering. No time to think, no time to be confused, why were they attacking us? Doesn't matter, need to escape now.

"Retreat, fall back fall back!"

It was not like she needed to shout the orders, the merchants and their packs had moved into the safety of the smaller tunnel while the warriors battled outside. This was no good, the Highland Raiders were better at this job than the guards she hired. At least the Val'Sullisin'rune were doing a fine job...but for her own warriors, firing mana bolts haphazardly into the dark would be a waste so the Illhar'dro guards were forced to connect their shields and edge backwards as their employers rushed to cover.Suru'sunduiri crumbled to her knees again, exhausted by how much effort she put in helping Ash'kirin with the shield. Suru'sunduiri dragged herself up to lean against a pack kanoaka, her little apartment on the beast mostly intact with one corner of the roof blown away. Her body ached, she was not a fighter and the mana shield drained her more than she thought it would.

Sensing, more than knowing; feeling the tide and flow of an event was not precognition but rather foresight through instinct, an altogether prophetic thought due to mental recognition that something was inherently wrong with their setting. Killian foresaw danger. An explosion would resound as billowing dirt clouds expanded and spilled outwards across the subterranean landscape. There was a pause. As if the very nature of time held it's breadth before another brilliant explosion ignited the air with blistering heat and shrapnel. She watched the shaky disbanding, and the sloppy formation into separate groups; there was a clear distinction between the groups which had practice together as a cohesive unit, and those that did not.

Killian however was far from being simple. Or frightened. There were general rules to engaging those which did not want to be seen.

You kept moving. She took one skipping step, then another, ascending up the sloped rock-face easily; with a single, final bound augmented by the release of mana through her palm - sending a sharp but swift burst of wind to propel her further, she came to a rolling landing upon the small, concealed plateau.

A trio of grubby, pot-bellied and dingy bearded Dwarves garbed in an array of tattered clothing with their own traditional family, or group symbols tattooed upon their bodies, possibly plastered with awkward stitching into the clothes.

Second Rule; initiative when taking the surprise.

Killian acted upon the most basic principle; to cut. Start and never stop; act and never stop acting - continuos motion in conflict; Cut. Bleed the foe. Cut. No mercy. Cut; through uncertainty, regret, pause, or hesitation. Cut. The principle of action. Of life. Of war.

One hand snapped with a blurred dexterity, sending a rotating knife into the shoulder of the nearest dwarf, the one shouldering their heaviest artillery piece; it cried out, fumbling the massive weapon. But she didn't halt. She leapt forward, blade connecting against the muzzle which turned to bare on her, it discharged, sending it's powerful explosive ammunition into a far-off cavern wall, the rigid face crumbling in flakes and dust mounds as it collapsed with tumbling stones upon the "floor".

Third Rule; cause disorder - accomplished.

The blade slipped up from the over-turned barrel, cutting into the gullet with tactical precision. The third Dwarf who by this point was turning around to face her was sent spiraling away and over the plateau, tumbling like a rag doll from the force of impact sent pounding through his body - Killian's hand remained extended, the soothing circular currents of air still rolling along her body from the point-blank burst she'd sent into the foe.

Fourth Rule; follow momentum - accomplished.

Rounding on her original target, gauntlet clad palm smashed mercilessly into the pudgy brow, leaving the sensitive crimson in her wake. The forehead of a dwarf was thick, far thicker than a fae, and she held no doubt it survived the blow; it did however collapse.

Fifth Rule; Dead men answer now questions. She left one living.

Finally her body tucked close against the concealing stones, curling up her profile while perceptive eyes darted along individual shelves of stone for another likely location from which they may have been assaulted.

Kir'lin was the first to respond to Suru'sunduir, having remained close to the Ill'hardro as the other drowess had taken to lean against one of the koa'naka. While Kir'lin remained standing in truth she was near as tired as Suru'sunduir, though youthful pride had her hiding this by forcing her voice to be calm and level rather than marked by heavy breathing as she said, "I'm unharmed, mostly thanks to your timely aid in joining your mana shield with mine Lady Suru'sunduir. You have my gratitude."

Kir'lin was able to finally recognize the other drowess now that she heard her voice. She didn't know Suru'sunduir personally, but was aware of who she was, more or less. At least enough to understand to give her proper respect. Kir'lin began to feel out the emotions of those around her, wondering herself if any of the other Ist'avens who were also on this trip had come out unharmed. Her features creased in a slight frown, so faint it might have seemed a phantom expression, there and gone at a moment's glance; but it betrayed her worry.

She had no concern of her companions capabilities in a normal battle of blade and mana. Any Ist'aven was worth ten of any other group of warriors, at lest in Kir'lin's own estimation. However with these dvergar and their cheap tricks of iron and exploding powder any instant of poor luck could unfairly spell an early end for even a skilled warrior. It galled her, actually, to think that a proper drow warrior who had spent decades to refine the skill of the blade could be killed instantly by just the bad luck to be caught by shrapnel or a ricochet from these cursed weapons the dvergar used. It was cheating, plain and simple. The thought that such a fate might befall one of her own Clan ignited as much anger as it did fear, though pride would erase much chance that these emotions would show on the surface.

On the other side of the caravan, clashes of steel against steel and flesh could be heard, Ash'vari dancing among the Dvergar with a skill hard won through centuries of practice. He smirked, the dwarves own cannons had given him the spark he needed to create his flames, the dancing tongues of fire flying through the air, lighting those who were to slow to get out of the way. Numerous dwarves already laid injured around him. Another swing and a fourth fell to his feet. He turned to the last one, a dwarf glaring him down as he approached, blade in hand.

Then it came. That same feeling. He dropped his blade, a wheezing coming from his throat, then a hacking painful cough erupting up from his stomach. No. Not now...

((For those unaware, most Ist'aven would know that Ash'vari has damaged lungs, and has attacks sometimes. Killian would definitely know, and the Ist'aven are small, so others should know, though you may choose to not know if your character is oblivious. : P Everyone should be able to hear the coughing. ))

The clamor of steel clashing against steel near to his left directed Ash'oka's vision in that direction. A band of mercenary escorts clashed against a phalanx of dwarven pikemen, and were being forced away from the main group. There was precious little time to waste.

Mustering up the guards near him, Ash'oka directed them to the pikemen and called for a rescue mission."Come on, you sons of bitches! Do you want to live forever?" he cried, trying to emulate the tales of heroics he had heard as a boy. Usually Ash'oka was not one for such heroics, but his heritage seemed to shine through at certain moments. Fortunately, this was one of them.

Since most of the other Sullisin'rune seemed to be holding their own, Ash'oka led the mercenaries in a flat out charge towards the pikemen. The pikemen were formidable foes when given time to prepare, but their lack of maneuverability and flexibility proved to be their undoing as Ash'oka preceded the drow attack with a sorcerous wave of earth. The dwarves were unable to turn around, their deadly weapons' inertia becoming a hindrance in facing the foe now charging their unprotected flank. A blinding flash of light from Ash'oka drove the dwarves back, reeling before they were cut down by the mercenaries' blades.

Ash'oka himself dove into the melee, spinning, hacking, and slashing at the dvergar before him. One went down, his heavy pike blocked by Ash'oka's off hand blade before Ash'oka's tulwar plunged into the dwarf's throat. Another fell, his arm severed by Ash'oka's flashing blades. At least these particular dwarves are using proper melee weaponry and not that blasted black powder, thought Ash'oka, as he pushed away another dwarf, this time relying on a hand axe rather than a pike, before slashing through the dwarf's stubby torso. Ash'oka quickly looked to his side at the cannon on the ridge...the dwarves wouldn't fire cannon with their comrades in such close proximity would they? He would have to finish up here and help his comrades, who were without a doubt within range of the infernal machines.

Suru'sunduiri managed a smirk as Kir'lin sought protection beside her as well, her arms ached a little but it was not such a big deal. This was a nightmare, she had head of the horror tales of dwarves attacking innocent trade caravans, but due to her clan's standing and influence (AND the agreements made), Suru'sunduiri had not been prepared for this. The most trouble she had expected was running into a Kiri'su nest or facing down some rabid Xuile'solens, not dwarves with their blasted cannons and short stumpy natures milling about. Taking another look at Kir'lin, the glow of the mana lights illuminated her features and Suru'sunduiri recognized it- one of the Sullisin'rune that had come with Ash'vari, Kir'lin...that was her name. Tying her hair back up again in a no fuss ponytail, she spoke in her beautiful voice.

"Lady Kir'lin Ist'aven Val'Sullisin'rune then? I had hoped to share an intimate chat with you Ist'avens when we approached Val'Raveran but it seems as though we have crossed that boundary already. I am Suru'sunduiri, it would be a pleasure to meet you despite this rec-"

Suru'sunduiri grabbed Kir'lin by the neck and forced her to the ground right on time as a cannon ball veered past their heads and struck the ground, a light mana shield erected by Suru and her thick cloak had managed to block most of the shrapnel.

"I can do nothing with these aura-less bastards and limited space. I could shatter them with sound but I fear harming our comrades."

Going back up tentatively, Suru scanned the darkness, Killian, Ash'oka, and Ash'vari were doing well on their own. The mercenaries pushed back the dwarves that had ventured from their ledges and impaled them on the rock. The problem was the cannons, the ceaseless neverending cannons. A flash of light revealed Ash'vari amongst the field, crumpling under his own weight, the light playing to show him bending forward in a hacking cough.

"Ash'vari! Kir'lin, Kir'lin, we must shatter that ledge up there where the dwarves are firing from. If we manage to mana blast the rocks above their heads, we may be able to put an end to this onslaught. We're going to need a bit more mana power in order to succeed though.."

Suru'sunduiri added the last part woefully, two mana blasts over such a far distance could not possibly bring down the roof above....the roof! Suru spun towards Kir'lin,

"Does anyone in your group know Earth sorcery? If we can get everyone back to safety, we can collapse the tunnel!"

The woman landed with a heavily metallic thud; even using a single, potent gust of air to slow her descent, the impact buckled her knees and made Killian roll upon making contact with the cavern floor to disperse the shock. Managing to regain a running standing posture with little effort - though her movements were less practiced and more frantic as she saw the blade, as if in a play by play motion, advancing on Ash'vari.

There was a momentary "pause" in time as she closed her eyes, came to a sliding stop and spread all of her limbs to increase surface area.

Time resumed normally.

There was a soft metallic echo as the dwarven blade connected with her steel visor, the solid construction absorbing the impact though blood began tickling down Killian's cheeks and washed through the silver locks from the exposed portion on the crown of her head; the edge had cut deep, but not fatally.

Ash'vari glared at the dwarves. They were continuing to pour in through their little hiding holes, one by one. His lungs wheezed greatly, his vision darkening slightly. He glanced up at the cavern entrance, and spotted it. A weak stone that had been damaged by one of the Dwarves cannons. And the dwarves kept coming.

He had no choice.

Summoning up his aura, he created a mana bolt- or more specifically, a wave of mana. Blasting the entire thing straight up at the weak stone, colliding with it in a bright and loud blast. The roof shook. And shook. The sound of cracking filled the air.

And the roof collapsed. "Get away from the cavern exit!" Ash'vari managed to yell at the top of his lungs, hoping to stop his allies from getting crushed under the falling stone as the dwarves now were, most retreating back into their hidden tunnels to escape the collapse.

Ash'oka dashed forwards with the Illhar'dro mercenaries and was soon among the next rank of dwarves, slashing fiercely left and right with his tulwars. Blades swung around him, but the dwarves were now more confused than the Sullisin'rune was. He felt his sword rasp against steel and glance down to split a broad skull; then he was through the line as the demoralized phalanx turned and ran before him.

There was to be no continuing such a rout today, however. Two other wings of dwarven soldiers had formed up to cover their retreating comrades, and more were marching up to the front lines behind them. The lightly armed and unprepared caravan would stand no chance, much less Ash'oka and the assorted mercenaries behind him, and it was under this recognition that Ash'oka gave the order to retreat back towards the others.

Suddenly a loud crack filled the air. Tons of earth began to rain down upon where Ash'oka had stood moments ago. "Get away from the cavern exit!" he heard Ash'vari cry out. The torrent of rock sounded like thunder as the drowolath ran at full speed back to the caravan.

"That was close…I could have brought all that down more safely for us if I had known that was the plan," gasped Ash'oka as he leaned against the side of a Sullisin'rune koa'naka. "What now?"